


agape

by clarakent (niewanyin)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: (detailed in notes), Asexual Jason Todd, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Curses, Dark Dick Grayson, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Tim Drake/Dick Grayson, Parent-Child Relationship, Sexual Harassment, Sibling Love, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake-centric, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26437720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niewanyin/pseuds/clarakent
Summary: Jason shrugs. “Look, I just . . . I just love you, okay?” His blue-green eyes meet Tim’s midnight directly, and Tim feels his breath punched out of him. How does Jason always look so beautiful? “I want to make sure that you’re happy and comfortable and that you feel safe. I know I’ve been shit at that in the past, I know I’ve been the one that you need protecting from, and I know you can’t return these feelings because of that, and I don’t care.” Jason blinks, his eyes looking strangely wet. Tim’s own feel blurry as well. “I just love seeing you happy. That’s all I want.”
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 12
Kudos: 238
Collections: WIP Big Bang 2020





	agape

**Author's Note:**

> I want to think ayzengima for betaing the first 6k of this fic when I wrote in the summer of 2019! The last 1.5k is betaed, so all mistakes are completely and totally on me. If you see any mistakes, please let me know!!!!
> 
> And I want to thank afteriwake for the amazing art that she created for me, as can be seen [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26212711).
> 
> notes for dicktim assault, and tim/oc assault. no one is consenting to it, as the one's assaulting tim are cursed, and dick and others are apologetic at the end. no penetrative rape occurs, but it is a threat and assault and molestation does! please proceed with caution

Eros is the biggest asshole there ever was. If Tim had to choose between being thrown to the Joker with a shining new crowbar and Eros, he would always choose the Joker. The god has a smug smile on his face as he waits for the spell to settle, and Tim stares at him wide-eyed

"Wha-what did you do?" he sputters out.

Eros shrugs. "You want to know what being desired feels like right? I've given it to you. Enjoy, bitch." With a snap of his fingers, he's gone and Tim's left all alone in a dark cave with a sick stomach. He has no idea what just happened. What kind of spell did Eros just put on him? Who the fuck even knew that Eros existed? He fumbles his bo staff in his hands and closes his eyes. He just means to take a deep breath, but the lingering magic in the cave must cut out because-

He wakes up in his bed, dressed in his pajamas, feeling well-rested for the first time in years. He scrabbles for his phone, and his stomach drops when he reads that it's 12:47 in the afternoon.

"Shit," he mumbles, scrambling out of bed and desperately searching for his clothes. He had meetings. He had things he needed to do today, and Eros fucking ruined them all. He shucks on clothes that look clean and manages to look something close to presentable, glad it's casual Friday, but he knows that the minute he walks into the boardroom, everyone is going to look at him and see a little kid trying to walk in his daddy's shoes.

He races out of his room, mentally weighing what would take less time, grabbing the coffee now or grabbing coffee on the way. Either way, he needs coffee now. He walks into the kitchen to find . . . Dick?

Dick is making him food, and it smells surprisingly good? Has he been able to cook all this time and just got out of it by claiming otherwise? Pretending he was like Tim, who actually couldn't cook, RIP Alfred's favorite toaster?

The unmitigated gall.

Dick looks up and smiles widely when he sees Tim. Almost too widely. It's actually very disturbing. A lot of teeth. "Timmy!" he shouts brightly. "How are you feeling? I hope you got lots of sleep."

He instantly takes a step back, but before he can move any farther, Dick is out of the kitchen, pushing him up against the hallway wall and leaning over him. Intellectually, Tim has always known that Dick is taller and weighs more than him, but everyone is and does. Dick has just never pinged on his radar as someone who could be threatening with that height and weight.

He does now. Dick is, for lack of a better word, looming over him, forearms bracing both sides of Tim's head, and one leg slowly coming between both of his. Tim has had dreams about this, but in reality? It's actually terrifying.

"Dick, uh, Dick, what are you doing?" he asks nervously, looking into Dick's sky blue eyes.

"You're so pretty. You know that, right?" Dick murmurs as he leans in close. "So pretty it's unbelievable. Never knew a guy could be this pretty until I saw you grow up."

"Wha-" Dick swallows whatever Tim was going to ask with a bruising kiss, and he squeaks. Dick's arms are gone from the wall. Now they're lifting Tim up in the air, forcing his legs around Dick's waist and instinctively, Tim clutches for Dick's shoulders. Dick's hands start to roam underneath his shirt. At least one does, the other wanders lower and enters his pants and in that moment, Tim tears himself away from the kiss.

He doesn't know what's happening.

It's all too real. Dick doesn't even seem to notice that they're no longer kissing, simply presses his face into the crook of Tim's neck while one hand moves up and down his back and the other, starting to bend at an angle that cannot be comfortable, moves down Tim's crease, searching for something that Tim's in no way ready for.

He starts to tremble, and he doesn't know what to do. Something is wrong with Dick, that much is clear. Does he push him off? Does he hit him? Does he let him continue doing what he wants? Tim really doesn't want to lose his virginity like this, but he's nervous about what Dick might do in this state if he fights, and all of a sudden this is becoming a lot, too much, there's pressure on his entrance because Dick's fingers have found it and-

Something beeps in the kitchen, and it distracts Dick just long enough for Tim to get out of his hold, run out of his apartment building, and force himself to take shaky breaths. It's a hot day, Jersey humidity and well into the seventies and Tim is wearing a button-shirt and jeans, but he feels ice-cold.

He has his wallet and phone on him, grabbed those from the bedroom before that . . . incident. That’s good. He's able to think clearer now, and shit, was he really going to let Dick finger him dry just because he was afraid of a fight? Pathetic. He just hopes that Dick doesn't remember this when he returns to normal otherwise he's going to be so disappointed in Tim. He'll see that he was right to take away Robin, because Robin's not supposed to be weak like that.

He forces himself to stand on shaky legs and wipes his face, because for some reason he started crying. He needs to get to WE and forget all about this morning.

*

It's not Dick.

It's him.

He doesn't have his keys, so he can't take his bike and his hands are shaking too much for him to hot-wire it. So he opts to take the worst subway ride of his life.

He gets his ass pinched more times than he can count, hands try to get underneath his shirt, two grown men actually start to masturbate as soon as they see him, another man tries to force him to get to his knees for a blowjob and he's only "saved" by a fourth pulling him into his lap and holding him tightly against him. This man is much bigger than him, easily 300 pounds and 6'5", and Tim can't escape his hold. No one in the entire car does a damn thing to save him, just talk among themselves about how pretty and beautiful he is, how much they "love" him. They surrounded the man, touching Tim's face, his hair, his mouth, underneath his clothes. No one has yet dipped their hand into his pants, but he feels the brushes over his jeans on his cock and ass, and he knows it's just a matter of time before they'll start.

This is all Eros's fault. It has to be his spell. He gives up on holding back his humiliated and terrified tears as he remembers the few times that his parents actually took an interest in him and tried to get him to engage with their work. He's the god of erotic love. The Ancient Greeks had four different types: erotic, familial, platonic, and selfless love. Eros, storge, philia, and agape.

Erotic as in desire, attraction, and passion.

As in madness.

From the way the big guy salivates over Tim, it's an apt description. The big guy moves his arm just as the doors open, and he's got a looser grip.

Tim shoves an elbow hard into his stomach, rolls off his lap and scrambles out of the car, not caring that this is blocks away from WE. He fights off the grabbing hands in the car, in the station, on the stairs and sidewalk, and runs as fast as he possibly can until his lungs burn and his legs hurt and no one's around him so he can fall down sobbing on this disgusting alleyway floor, shaking as he feels the phantom hands of everyone upon him.

"....Tim?" he hears next to him. It's Bruce. Somehow, Bruce is here, and not as Batman. Bruce is probably going to touch him too, and Tim is tired of running. No one is going to stop, so he might as well get this over with. He doesn't do anything but cry harder as Bruce crouches down next to him, places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Tim, what's the matter?"

There are a lot of things Tim could have said in this moment, and he will easily admit that he did not say the best thing.

The only words that seem capable of escaping his mouth are, "I don't want to be raped," which sets him off crying even harder as Bruce grips his shoulder and growls, "Who touched you?"

He's moving so he can hold Tim close to him, Tim's head on his shoulder. He lightly rubs Tim's back with one hand and is running his fingers through his hair with the other, and there’s absolutely nothing sexual about it at all. His hands do nothing more than comfort Tim, and it’s all Tim can do to grasp onto Bruce’s sweater, which is probably getting ruined by Tim’s tears and snot.

“Tim, what happened?” Bruce asks softly. “Who hurt you?”

“Something’s  _ -hic- _ wrong,” Tim manages to gasp out. “A spell  _ -hic- _ got put on me, and now everyone wants me.”

He needs Bruce to understand. He needs Bruce to keep holding him and not have his touch go any further. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want Bruce to want him.

“Who wanted you?”

Tim doesn’t want to say it, but he knows he has to. “People in the subway. People on the street.” He hesitates, but he knows that Bruce knows that he’s holding something back, so he forces out, “Dick.” He won’t tell Bruce how far Dick got. No one needs to know that.

“Okay,” Bruce murmurs, and Tim can feel the rumbling from his chest. “I’ll figure this out, Tim. I promise.”

*

Bruce lets him cry himself out, and then carefully picks him up and carries him to the car. “How’d you find me?” he mumbled, while Bruce gets him settled in the passenger seat.

“Dick called me this morning panicking that you ran out of your apartment, and since you never appeared at any of the meetings this morning, I knew that something must be wrong and activated the tracker on your phone.” He sighs, and looks at Tim with exhausted eyes, kneeling in front of the open door and a hand on Tim’s knee, making it the only warm part of his body. “It took a lot to convince Dick not to come with me. I told him to stay at your apartment in case you came back.”

Tim breathes out in relief. “Thank you.”

“You say he was affected too.”

Tim nods. “Okay, and I’m the only person who hasn’t been? Men and women?”

Tim remembers the eyes of horrified kids on the subway. “If they’re past puberty, they want me. And you don’t.”

“Of course I don’t,” Bruce spits out. “You’re my son.”

“I’m Dick’s brother,” Tim points out, and that just makes Bruce frown deeper.

“I’m aware.” He looks at Tim, eyes searching deep. “Tim, what did he do to you?”

He turns away from that gaze. “It wasn’t him.”

“But it happened to you.”

Tim bites his lip. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He hates how his voice cracks, but maybe it’ll stop Bruce from talking about it.

The hand on his knee feels heavier and warmer, and Bruce gives a heavy sigh. “I won’t ask anything more as long as you answer this truthfully. Did anyone actually rape you?”

Hands all over his body and the feeling that he’ll never be clean, but no. A whimper escapes his lips as he shakes his head. “Oh, Tim. Let’s get you home.”

Tim nods and curls up in the seat. Bruce stands and walks around to the driver's seat, and Tim misses the touch. He wonders if that's odd; he remembers from the lessons Bruce had given him on helping assault victims that many of them didn't like being touched, but the solid, comforting, and totally non-sexual of his father is the only thing that Tim feels is keeping him sane right now. As soon as Bruce gets in, Tim leans towards him, and Bruce, despite it going against everything that he's ever taught them on how to drive, holds Tim's hand all the way to the Manor.

It's a horrible drive. Every stop at a light brings new attention. People try to get into the car to get to Tim, start masturbating as soon as they see him, and cat-call him. Each new action feels like he's being stabbed, and Bruce is growling. Eventually, he's blowing through the lights, driving recklessly as he goes as fast as the car will allow him towards the Manor.

"We can fix this, right?" Tim asks helplessly.

Bruce nods. "This will be fixed, son. Don't worry."

He doesn't know how Bruce is going to do it, but he knows Bruce will.

Tim had never believed in Jack and Janet the way most kids believe in their parents. He had never been convinced that they made the sun rise or that any little problem could be solved by them or that he would magically feel better in their presence. If at some point he did, he had grown out of it by the time his memories started at four and the Grayson's died.

But when it comes to Bruce, Tim can't help but invest all of his faith in him. Bruce has failed him in the past, and perhaps it's stupid to always be trusting him so readily, but at least he tries to make-up for his failings. Jack and Janet had always chosen to ignore the inconvenient truth that they weren't good parents; Bruce faces the idea head on and fights to be good.

Bruce skids to a stop right in front of the Manor's driveway. Tim looks at him questioningly.

"I am the only person above the age of puberty not affected by whatever curse has been put on you." Tim nods. "We cannot say for certain that Alfred and Damian are not affected either, as much as I hope they're not." Bruce looks at him sympathetically. "I'm going to call them and ask them questions. Hopefully they haven't been affected, but there is also the chance that they will only become affected upon seeing you, so even if they sound normal, we must tread carefully."

"Dick was there when I woke up."

"Dick already has the habit of sneaking into your's and Jason's apartment when he wants to talk, there's a good chance that he came over completely unaffected and then the curse triggered when he saw you."

He's right, but they can still at least rule out how it's spread. He nods. "I'll call Damian first."

Neither one of them wants to hear Alfred talking about him that way. If it's already affected everyone, then at least they can know with Damian.

Bruce pulls out his phone and calls Damian, sets it on the dashboard on speakerphone. "Stay silent," he mouths. Tim nods.

Damian answers on the third ring. "Father?"

"Damian," Bruce says gruffly. "I don't know if you're heard, but Tim left his apartment this morning while Dick was over there, and now we can't find him. Has he come by the Manor?"

"No," Damian curtly replies, and for a brief second, Tim wants to breathe out in relief. He's not affected, at least not yet and Tim can steer well away from him until this is all figured out. And then his hopes are dashed. "But I've been thinking, Father. I've been far too cruel towards Timothy, and that is shameful behavior that does not befit the Wayne heir. Especially not towards a man as beautiful as he is."

The hand that's on the steering wheel grips it so tightly it turns white. "What are you saying, Damian?"

A scoff through the phone. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. You are not blind. His hair, his eyes, his lips. It's unbelievable how gorgeous he is."

"Yes, okay, thank you Damian, I'll let you know if I find him," Bruce blurts out right before he hangs up. Tim stares at the phone. Bruce taps the free hand on the wheel. "I'm not putting you in the Cave; we're going to a safe house. I'll call Alfred from there. You don't . . . you don't need to hear if he's affected."

"Thank you," Tim mumbles as Bruce pulls away and heads back towards the city, denied entrance from his home even though he knows he can't be there with Damian and Dick and possibly Alfred being affected.

He watches the Manor fade from behind him before he finally faces back towards the front.

Bruce is obviously taking him to the nearest safe-house he has. When they arrive, he throws a blanket over Tim and picks him up before jogging up the stairs. He gently places Tim on the old couch, and then walks into another room to call Alfred. Tim pulls out his phone to distract him from the conversation that he could overhear if he strained. He hasn’t gotten a chance to check his messages today, and each new message makes his stomach sink lower into the ground.

Everyone he knows seems to have texted him asking if he wanted to meet up or go on a date or just bluntly asking if he wanted to fuck. There are dick pics and tit shots and graphic statements about how exactly they want to fuck him. His tears have returned by the time he gets through them all.

Online’s better. It seems the curse is limited to only affecting people he knows without them laying eyes on him. There is nothing more than the usual gross things about his looks. Perhaps a little uptick, but that could just be his imagination. He throws his phone to the side and puts his face in his hands.

He can’t live like this. This curse has to be broken soon.

Bruce treads back into the room, heavy steps. “Alfred too?”

“I’m sorry.”

Tim jerks his head towards his phone. “Literally everyone I know is in there trying to fuck me. I expected it. Just call Zatanna or someone and fix this.”

“What is this, exactly?” Tim feels the couch dip lower as Bruce sits down, and Tim leans back into his arms. “Tim, you haven’t even told me how this happened.”

"I was on a mission with the Titans. We were tracking down a black market dealer, and among his possessions was a necklace with the depiction of Eros. I was an idiot who rubbed it, and it brought me to a cave where he was just . . .  _ lounging _ around. And then we got into an argument and he put a curse on me." He looks down at his knees. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault. Don't think that." Bruce grips him tighter. "What were you arguing about?"

Tim doesn't want to say it. He would honestly rather die than say it. But he knows that Bruce might need to know it to figure it out, so he screws his eyes shut and forces the words out. "He said that I was beautiful and surely everyone I meet must desire me. I might have laughed in his face and told him that no one desires me, and if they did, I would know. I think he took offense to the fact that I was telling him he was wrong, so that's when he snapped his fingers and cursed me. Next thing I know, I'm waking up at one in the afternoon, and Dick is . . . Dick is showing how much he can desire me."

"I'll call Diana too. She might know something about Eros and his spells."

If she does, she doesn't realize she's under one. There might be an incredibly explicit text on his phone that is her picture of her wide variety of dildos and what she liked to do to Tim with each and every one of them.

The look on Bruce's face at that information is the same as Tim's was. "Give me your phone." Without complaint, Tim hands it over and Bruce's face grows more and more disturbed and disgusted as he looks at the texts. There are messages and missed calls, Tim just notices, but he's too tired to look at them. He can read the names of who they were, and that's bad enough.

Finally, Bruce gets to the end of the messages, face still disturbed, but brown eyes alight with calculations. "Everyone you know is in these messages," Bruce states. Tim nods. "Except Jason and Cass."

That's-

That's  _ right _ .

They weren't in the messages at all. It's not much, but-

Bruce hands Tim back his phone and then grabs his own from the table. He calls Cass first.

"Dad?" she answers promptly on the first ring.

"Cass," he replies. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good, but something strange is going on. I wandered into Stephanie, Babs, and the Birds of Prey discussing about the best way to kidnap and rape Tim. I was able to knock them all out, but when I went to Tim's apartment to warn him, only Dick was there and he seemed off. I do not know what it is happening, but it is paramount that we rescue Tim from whatever it is before we save anyone else." There's absolutely no lust in her voice and Tim could cry in relief. Bruce feels the same, in how he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in relief is any indication.

"He's with me, Cass."

"Where are you?"

Bruce looks at Tim, leaving the decision up to him. He nods. No one else has been able to control their lust, so the fact that Cass is clearly incapable of any lust in the moment tells Tim that she's safe, she won't hurt him. Bruce rattles off their location, and hangs up once he has confirmation.

He calls Jason next, who doesn't pick up until the last ring and when he does, it's with a short, "What?"

"How do you feel about Tim? Any feelings of lust or desire?"

There's a crash and a shuffle at the other end of the phone, and then Jason sounds oddly flustered as he says, "Wha-what? No, I, I mean, there's absolutely  _ nothing _ between me and Tim at all. Like if he said anything, I-I don't know  _ why _ . Did-did he say anything? Not like, not like I really care. I have no feelings for him whatsoever."

Tim wonders if he's having a stroke. Bruce raises an eyebrow. "Jason, I don't have time to play games. Tim is under some curse that with the exception of myself, Cass, and  _ possibly _ you is making everyone go mad with desire for him and attempt to sexually assault him. I have to know if you have feelings that will make you try to hurt him, because if you don't, we will need your help."

It's always so strange to Tim how much Jason and Bruce can sound alike, because Jason growls exactly like Bruce as he says, "Who the hell hurt him?"

Bruce looks at him again. Tim nods. Possible mini-stroke aside, Jason seems normal. And if he turns out not to be, Cass and Bruce can easily take care of him. Bruce rattles off the location and Jason gives a gruff, "Be there in ten."

Tim sits up, stares at the door. Soon both Jason and Cass will be there. Bruce gets up, goes to get something, though what it is, Tim doesn't know. Until Bruce shoves it underneath his face.

Tim blinks in confusion. It's a taser, and he looks up at Bruce. "If anyone of us gives any indication that we are about to harm you, I want you to use this against us." Bruce places a hand on his shoulder. "Do not think about us, think about getting  _ yourself _ out there safely." And then his mouth twists into something unpleasant. "And as much as I hate to say it, but if you cannot escape from our grasp, then I need you to remember it's not  _ your _ fault for anything that might happen. Just like it wasn't your fault for Dick earlier."

Tim's mouth goes dry. "What do you think happened?"

"I think flight is just a good responsive tactic as fight, even if the flight is purely mental."

Tim swallows past the lump in his throat. "I didn't do anything other than cry. All my training and I- And it wasn't even rape, it was just. . . ." Literally a second later and Dick's fingers would have been inside him, and Tim would have been incapable of leaving no matter what happened. ". . . touching."

"No matter what it was," Bruce says, pulling Tim into a hug once again. "It was still scary. And you were still so strong for getting through it. Your mind knows the best way for you to survive, even if that's just escaping in a small corner in it."

"I don't want Dick to ever know," Tim whispers.

Bruce rubs his back. "I'm not going to tell anyone else, and I hope to God everyone else does forget, but I do believe that you should tell Dick about this. Don't be like me, Tim. Don't keep all your anger and resentment inside you and never talk about it."

"Did this ever happen to you?" He's truly curious. He just . . . he doesn't want to be alone in this.

Bruce frowns. “No, I haven’t-” He stops. “I could . . . ask around when this is over. See if there’s anyone who  _ has _ .”

Tim shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be alone, but he doesn’t want anyone else to know about this either.

“Okay,” Bruce whispers. “I won’t say anything then.”

Tim doesn’t know what to say, but thankfully, there’s a knock on the door. He steps back and wipes his eyes, and Bruce squeezes a shoulder before walking over and looking through the peephole. “It’s Cass,” he states. “Be prepared in case she spots you and she’s overtaken.”

Tim nods, and grips the taser tightly. He’s praying desperately that Cass is  _ normal _ , that she doesn’t want to hurt him.

As soon as she steps in, she makes a beeline to Tim to hug him tightly to her chest, and he wants to cry in relief. "Little brother," she whispers into his hair and gives him a kiss. "We'll fix this."

"Damn straight," Jason growls from the doorway. "Now what the hell is going on?"

Bruce explains brusquely as he texts Diana, frowning at the phone. Cass tightens her grip around Tim and Jason swears. "So everyone is like this? Not just the creeps?"

Tim nods, pushing the thought of Dick far from his mind. "I just want to fix this."

Bruce makes a small noise of triumph. "I think we just did."

Three questioning stares turn towards him. "Diana isn't mad with desire over me. She knows exactly what we need to break this curse."

"What is it?" Tim asks, desperation filling every part of his voice. He's envisioning a mad and frightful quest to find Eros and demand he remove the curse.

Bruce sets down his phone. "This is an old spell, but a common one. A poor soul cursed by Eros? They need the other three types of love to break it, the person who feels it most towards the soul."

"Us," Cass says.

"Well, how do we do it?" Jason asks. "Who do I need to punch?"

"What are the types of love?" Cass is starting to card her fingers through Tim's hair and scratch.

"Storge is familial love. Philia is platonic. Agape is selfless love. One of you loves me the most as a member of a family, one of you as a friend, and one of you loves me selflessly." Tim cuts in, his throat feeling strangely dry.

"Who's who?" Jason asks.

"Bruce's  _ storge _ ," Cass says. "I'm  _ philia _ ." Her gaze shifts over to Jason. "You're  _ agape _ ."

Jason starts. "Wha- What's your proof?"

Cass raises an eyebrow. Jason looks down. Tim is confused. "I get you," he mumbles to Cass. "And I get Bruce. But how does Jason love me selflessly?"

"Yes, I would like some clarification on this as well," Bruce cuts in. He is glancing between Tim and Jason like there's a tennis match going on between them, and then he suddenly stills and with the most shocked expression that Tim has ever seen on him in his life, looks at Jason. "No feelings whatsoever," he breathes out, his tone a strange mix of horrified and incredulous. "You lied.”

"I don't feel lust or desire," Jason says. "I  _ don't _ ." He shifts and mumbles in embarrassment. "I'm asexual. That's the only reason why I'm not feeling anything."

Tim blinks at the statement. Jason’s asexual? Does that . . . does that explain why he never seemed to notice it when Tim wore his tightest clothing around him and just asked Tim if he was uncomfortable?

Bruce shakes his head. "I don't think that's it." He holds up Tim's phone. "There's absolutely no way that everyone on here is attracted to Tim. The curse doesn’t care about sexuality. I don't see why you would be an exception unless you're supposed to be one."

“But how does Jason love Tim selflessly?” Cass asks. It’s the best question Tim can think to ask, and so he repeats it, pulling himself out of Cass’s grip. “Yeah,  _ how _ ?”

Jason shrugs. “Look, I just . . . I just love you, okay?” His blue-green eyes meet Tim’s midnight directly, and Tim feels his breath punched out of him. How does Jason always look so beautiful? “I want to make sure that you’re happy and comfortable and that you feel safe. I know I’ve been shit at that in the past, I know I’ve been the one that you need protecting from, and I know you can’t return these feelings because of that, and I don’t  _ care _ .” Jason blinks, his eyes looking strangely wet. Tim’s own feel blurry as well. “I just love seeing you happy. That’s all I want.”

There’s a knot in Tim’ throat. “And what if you made me happy?”

Jason’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Tim takes a deep breath. “I don’t . . . I just . . .” He growls, the words refusing to make sense in his mind. “I think I love you too. And I love seeing you happy. And I . . . I would want to make you happy every day that I can. If you let me.”

Jason looks at Tim, the prettiest eyes in the world wide as can be. “Fuck yeah,” comes out in a breath, and Tim gives a choked off laugh.

Cass tightens her grip on Tim a little bit more. "What do we need?" she asks.

Bruce smiles. "A kiss from each type of love."

Tim and Jason both blink. Cass stretches her lips into a wide smile. "Really?" she glances between Tim and Jason. "Specific?"

"Actually, yes. Diana says the  _ storge _ needs to be on the forehead, the  _ philia _ on the tip of the nose, and the  _ agape _ on the lips."

Cass spins Tim so he's facing Bruce, and before Tim can even blink, Bruce is pressing his lips on Tim's forehead. His head is supported by his father's hands, and Tim swears he feels a weight fall off of him. His hands grip Bruce's arms and he takes a deep breath. He doesn't know if this is going to work, but he already feels better from just one of Bruce's kisses.

Cass spins him back, and Tim swears he's going to be sick before she's done, but she presses a light kiss to the tip of his nose, and another weight feels like it's fallen off him. She steps back then, and moves to Jason, pushing him forward and with such force that he actually stumbles a little. He straightens up, and gives a queasy smile at Tim. It looks almost as bad as Bruce's.

"You don't have to do this," he whispers. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

Tim has felt uncomfortable all day. He has felt violated and betrayed. There are so many people that he's going to have trouble looking in the eye when this is over, and there are some strangers in Gotham that if he ever sees again, he might have a full-blown panic attack because he will remember how close he got to being raped.

To compare those feelings of earlier to now is laughable. Tim shakes his head. "No," he whispers, and he jumps onto Jason, pulling his lips down so he can capture them in a kiss. Tim's on his tip-toe's, standing on Jason's boots in fact, and he's shocked by how right Jason feels pressed against his lips. Jason wraps his arms around Tim's waist, and it feels nothing like Dick did earlier. He loves Dick, but he's choosing Jason here in this moment, giving himself to Jason because he  _ wants _ to. Somehow, Jason loves him totally selflessly. How he deserves that love, Tim doesn't know, but he's so grateful he has it.

There's such a feeling of relief dripping from his shoulders that Tim wants to cry, and he thinks that he's tearing up when he has to pull back to breathe.

Jason definitely is.

"Worked?" Cass asks, and Tim shrugs.

"Maybe. I know a way we can test it."

*

"Fuck, Tim, I'm so fucking sorry," Dick says, tears sliding down his cheeks as he stares at Tim. Jason is sitting in between them, hand gripping a baseball bat tightly, the only weapon Bruce would allow Jason to have for this meeting. Tim is pretty sure there's a few knives hidden somewhere on his body though. His eyes are narrowed as he watches Dick.

"It wasn't you," Tim whispers. He doesn't feel comfortable around Dick right now, not alone, but luckily it seems Dick feels the same way. Everyone who knows Tim personally seems to have vague memories of what happened, but nothing concrete. The random Gotham citizens that Bruce tracked down from the camera feeds don't remember a damn thing, and Babs made sure to have all footage erased. It's only Dick that was cursed to remember the entire incident in vivid memory.

"Yeah, but fuck, baby bird," Dick says. "I remember what I did to you." He takes a deep breath. "You can be pissed. You can attack me. I won't stop you."

"I sure won't," Jason mutters.

Tim shakes his head. "That's not going to help. I just want you to know I don't blame you. It  _ wasn't _ you. It was Eros."

Jason and Dick both growl, and Tim has a feeling that the two of them might develop some quality bonding time by hunting down the god.

Tim takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Look, I just wanted you to know that. I'm going to go now, but," he reaches out and lays a hand on Dick's shoulder, who jumps at the sudden contact, "I love you. It's just going to be a little time."

Dick reaches up and squeezes his wrist, smiling through his tears. "Thanks, Timmy. I love you too."

Tim gets up and walks out of the room, Jason following behind him. Bruce is waiting outside the office door, and gives Tim a wan smile as he goes in. "I'll talk him down," he says. "I don't need him trying to kill a god."

"Are we sure about that?" Jason states, and Bruce sighs.

"Yes, Jason. I'm sure."

Jason shrugs. "We'll see."

Tim does not want to listen to this argument. He pulls Jason away before either one of them can say something stupid, and moves towards his room. He pushes Jason inside, and locks the door to prevent nosy demon brat's from eavesdropping, but Damian seems to have remembered his crush on Tim at least in part, and has taken great care to avoid him. Alfred has done so as well, but also making sure to cook all of Tim's favorite foods as a way of apology.

As soon as he does, he turns around and smiles at Jason. Jason smiles back, and brushes a strand of hair from Tim's face. "You sure you're okay?"

Tim nods. "Yeah. I just don't want to talk about it anymore."

Jason shrugs. "Anything you want."

"Really?" He raises an eyebrow. "So if I told you I wanted to make-out and cuddle and start calling you my boyfriend?"

Jason blinks a few times, and then smiles widely. "I would fucking love it."

Tim laughs as he pulls Jason close to him, and brings their lips together in a glorious kiss.

And then Jason pulls back. Tim blinks at him, not sure what went wrong. This is . . . this is the part where they kiss, right? He has no idea what Jason is doing right now, but he follows his lips, not wanting to leave them.

"Baby bird," Jason whispers, his voice rough as he raises his hands to Tim face, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the soft dusting of freckles that reside on his cheeks that come out in the summer, "I don't want you to do this because you feel that you have to. Or because of some trauma thing. I love you, and I'll wait for you." He tilts his head as he looks deep into Tim's eyes. "I want to make sure that you know that."

There's a part of Tim that's roaring with anger, that Jason thinks so little of him that he thinks that he would kiss him just because of what happened with Dick, but there's just as big a part of him that fills up with tremendous love for the man in front of him, that his crime is that he wants to make sure that Tim knows that he doesn't have to kiss him.

"I would never kiss you," he responds, his voice just as rough, "just because I felt I had too. And whatever my trauma is has nothing to do with this kiss." He really doesn't want Dick's touch on him, and he might have issues with being pinned against a wall, the thought of it itching at his mind already and making his body feel strange and not quite his, so that's going to be fun to over-analyze with the imaginary therapist in his mind, but doesn't have anything to do with Jason. With Jason, he actually feels safe, because Jason loves in a way that's pure and unfiltered, and okay, there's a part of Tim that doesn't feel worthy of that love, but he remembers something that Cassie told him once, as they were sitting in a Smallville field, looking up at the stars as Kon and Bart played tag in the distance.

They had been talking about her and Kon, and somehow it ended up with Tim whispering out that sometimes he didn't feel worthy of the love he was given by his friends and his family, and she had taken his hand and gripped it tightly as she whispered, "I don't think it matters if you think you're worthy, but that they do."

He had instantly come up with twenty-three different arguments in his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to actually say a single one when he had gotten her words for what they truly met, not to be bogged down by statistics and arguments.

Or as Kon put it, "Dude, stop worrying about people loving you. It's our fucking choice, so just deal with it."

It's a choice to love and it's a choice to be loved, and Tim wants to make this choice of love. He doesn't want to question it, he wants to revel in it. He wants to love Jason in the way that Jason loves him, because he's not sure if he does yet, but Jason isn't even asking for that.

But maybe he needs to hear it.

He leans forward, tucking his head underneath Jason's chin as he breathes across his skin. "I'm not doing this out of trauma. I can just want to kiss you because you're you. And I don't want to go farther, especially because I don't know if you don't want to. I haven't forgotten that you're ace, that's a conversation for another time. But Jay. . . . Man, I really do want to kiss. Is that so wrong?"

Strong arms come up to circle his back, pulling him in close and making him feel so completely and utterly safe. "No, it isn't," Jason whispers. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, I just- I'm sure it was scary," he ends up saying. "And I don't want to do or say anything that would make it worse."

"Trust me, okay?" Tim asks, crossing his fingers that Jason will. Bats have a really hard track record with trusting each other's claims about mental health, someone always convinced that someone else is really not okay despite their assurances, and of course, they really aren't okay. It wouldn't be the first time Tim has proclaimed that he's perfectly fine only to be crying hysterically in the bathroom, hugging his knees until Bruce found him and wrapped him up tight. There'll probably be another time after this, but it's really . . . it's something that Tim will figure out with later. "If we're going to do this, we have to trust each other. We have a lot of shit between us, and we have to have faith."

He wants to give Cassie a million and one presents for giving him all this relationship advice, when he'd never thought that he'd use it. It never really seemed possible that he would find someone that he would want to be with, and then find himself wanting to be in a steady and functioning relationship and then-

But he's here right now, and he was Jason in his arms and he's in Jason's, and everything is actually good and manageable in the world. He can feel like he can breathe. He feels safe. He looks up at Jason and he smiles wide because he knows that everything is actually going to be okay. Eventually, which is the whole point, and even though he plans on beating up Eros-

Oh, that reminds him.

"Jay?" he asks into the solid chest.

"Yeah, baby bird?" he gets.

"Do you want to help me beat up the god of love?"

Jason bends over, pressing his face into Tim's hair, and he can feel the wide smile that he's placing into his hair. "You don't even have to ask. But we should definitely get Tiny Dancer and B to help us."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Really? On our first date?"

"Timothy Jackson Drake, if you honestly think that our first date is going to be us beating up somehow that enabled you to be sexually harassed, then you have a hurricane fucking head for your door. Our first date is going to be a candlelit dinner that will make you tear up. It will be romantic as fuck. No other date you've ever been on could ever compare. This is just going to be a pre-date, and it's perfectly acceptable to bring family members along on the pre-dates, okay?"

Tim laughs, the joy lighting up his body as he thinks about how great it is to be able to talk like this with Jason, unaware about the feelings he had for him all this time, not only for what the other man was feeling, but also his own feelings. He had known that Jason was attractive, he had known that he liked men, but somehow, he had managed to deny to himself for years that he actually had a crush on Jason, telling himself that it was obvious that everyone thought of Jason licking frosting off their lips when they wanted to jerk off.

You know, maybe Bart has a point that he can be a really oblivious motherfucker.

He turns his face up to stare at Jason, taking in those blue-green eyes and his strong eyebrows and that nose that's been broken twice and looks all the more attractive for it. He thinks about waking up on cold mornings and pressing in close to warm up. He thinks about Jason reading as he works on cases, Jason telling him about the plots of his stories with an eagerness that makes Tim's heart grow warm.

He thinks about the fact that he could be with this man for the rest of his life, and even if he's not, he could be with him for a long time. He thinks about unconditional love and how it still terrifies him, but coming from Jason, it-

It feels like a solid promise.

And one that Tim knows he will be able to make one day as well.

He has faith in himself for the first time in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr and twitter, so follow me [here](https://salazarastark.tumblr.com/) and [here](https://twitter.com/salazarastark) ! I'm not as active as I'd like to be, but I'm always up for talking about my fics or anything else!
> 
> I appreciate comments, and don't mind constructive critique or pointing out SPAG errors!


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